It was only then I realized I didn't know the name of Elodin's class. I leafed through the ledger until I spotted Elodin's name, then ran my finger back to where the title of the class was listed in fresh dark ink: "Introduction to Not Being a Stupid Jackass."
I sighed and penned my name in the single blank space beneath.
–Oh. –Me miró, por fin–. Hola.
–Hola –lo saludé con educación.
–No te conozco. –Una pausa–. ¿Quién eres?
–Soy Kvothe.
–Pareces muy seguro de ello –repuso él mirándome de hito en hito. Otra pausa–. A mí ellos me llaman Títere.
–¿Quién es
Sought we the Scrivani word-work of Surthur
Long-lost in ledger all hope forgotten.
Yet fast-found for friendship fair the book-bringer
Hot comes the huntress Fela, flushed with finding
Breathless her breast her high blood rising
To ripen the red-cheek rouge-bloom of beauty.
“That sort of thing,” Simmon said absently, his eyes still scanning the pages in front of him.
I saw Fela turn her head to look at Simmon, almost as if she were surprised to see him sitting there.
No, it was almost as if up until that point, he’d just been occupying space around her, like a piece of furniture. But this time when she looked at him, she took all of him in. His sandy hair, the line of his jaw, the span of his shoulders beneath his shirt. This time when she looked, she actually saw him.
Let me say this. It was worth the whole awful, irritating time spent searching the Archives just to watch that moment happen. It was worth blood and the fear of death to see her fall in love with him. Just a little. Just the first faint breath of love, so light she probably didn’t notice it herself. It wasn’t dramatic, like some bolt of lightning with a crack of thunder following. It was more like when flint strikes steel and the spark fades almost too fast for you to see. But still, you know it’s there, down where you can’t see, kindling.
Mots clés love simmon kvothe fela scriv wil
Don't put beets in the soup, Reshi. They're foul.
Patrick RothfussUtilizar palabras para hablar de palabras es como utilizar un lápiz para hacer un dibujo de ese lápiz sobre ese mismo lápiz. Imposible. Desconcertante. Frustrante.
Patrick RothfussMots clés palabras kvothe elodin
No man is brave that has never walked a hundred miles. If you want to know the truth of who you are, walk until not a person knows your name. Travel is the great leveler, the great teacher, bitter as medicine, crueler than mirror-glass. A long stretch of road will teach you more about yourself than a hundred years of quiet.
Patrick RothfussMots clés inspirational travel
We all become what we pretend to be.
Patrick RothfussI spoke it soft, but close enough to brush against her lips. I spoke it quiet, but near enough so that the sound of it went twining through her hair. I spoke it hard and firm and dark and sweet.
Patrick RothfussAethe, near my heart.
Without vanity, the ribbon.
Without duty, the wind.
Without blood, the victory.
Es erwies sich als schwierig, Elodin zu finden. Er hatte zwar ein Büro in den Hollows, nutzte es aber offenbar nicht. Aus dem Vorlesungsverzeichnis erfuhr ich, dass er nur ein einziges Seminar gab: Unwahrscheinlichkeitsrechnung. Diese Information war jedoch nicht sonderlich hilfreich, denn laut Verzeichnis fand das Seminar "jetzt" statt, und als Ort war "überall" angegeben.
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